


After Dean Died

by PoeDameronsJacket



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Death, Eileen is so supportive and we love her for it, Feelings, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Immediately after Dean dies, Platonic Soulmates, Post-Finale, Sam is going to be okay, Sam is not alone, but also feel good??, im sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:00:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27766402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoeDameronsJacket/pseuds/PoeDameronsJacket
Summary: "Sam felt the urge to pray. It was instinctual, almost. In so many of the worst moments of Sam’s life, he had turned to God, to angels, to faith. All those were gone now, comforting fantasies dashed like ships against unseen cliffs.So instead, head lowered and eyes closed, he prayed to Dean."What happened after Dean died, and Sam was left alone.Preparing Dean for his hunter's funeral, Sam realizes he is so loved.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	After Dean Died

Sam didn’t know how long he stood in the barn, clutching his brother’s lifeless body. At some point, long after Dean went limp in his arms, Sam pulled him gently off the post, and, cradling him, lowered them both down to the ground. He sat there, Dean wrapped tight in his arms, and wept. He wept until he blacked out, and when he awoke to the stiff vessel that had once held his brother lain across his lap, he wept again.

He stayed like that all night, stroking Dean’s face and smoothing his hair back, holding onto him like a lifeboat keeping him from drowning. There was no thought, no anger – not yet. Only a gaping hole in his chest, a hole that he felt – that he hoped -- might swallow him entirely, and take him along to wherever Dean had gone.

It was his phone ringing an infinite time later that finally roused Sam from his stupor. He seemed to have forgotten how to move his body though, and by the time he dug the device out of his pocket, it had long stopped buzzing. Unlocking his phone, he saw the unfulfilled 9-1-1 call still open. Blinking away a new wave of tears – how did he still have tears left to cry? – he opened his texts to see unread messages from Eileen, Jodie, and Donna.

His thumb moved to Eileen’s message first, every action taking unbearable effort.

_Sam – didn’t hear from you last night. Figure you’re just out hunting and didn’t have time to call, but please check in with me when you can. <3_

He swiped through to Donna.

_Hon, Jodie called. Said you boys were supposed to drop by for dinner but you never showed. I know you’re probably off saving people, but it’s rude to leave a hot meal waitin! Let me know you’re okay._

Jodie’s messages were last:

_You boys on your way?_

_I know you said you were gonna clear out a vampire nest before heading over. That’s a walk in the park for you boys these days, so I expect you to be here promptly for 7 o’clock dinner._

_Claire and Kaia had something they wanted to share with you, they’ll be heartbroken if you miss dinner._

_Well, I’ve packed up some of the leftovers for you, so you can pull em right out of the fridge whenever you get here._

_Sam?_

_Sam, let me know what’s going on when you can. I’ll be on the road in a jiffy if you need my help._

His eyes skimmed over the messages, hardly registering their meaning.

A distant voice in his head told him he should answer someone. Not let them worry. After all, It was over. There was nothing to worry about anymore – the fear had come to fruition.

His hand moved robotically, typing out a message to Eileen.

_Dean’s gone._

He saw the text bubbles emerge immediately, as Eileen began typing out a response. He felt a flicker of warmth in his heart as he thought of her sitting by her phone, waiting for him to check in.

His phone started buzzing, she had evidently decided to call him instead. Sam rejected the call and typed out another message, before turning his phone off and tucking it away in his pocket again.

_Don’t worry about me. I’ll be by when I can. Tell Donna and Jodie for me, please._

His legs were numb from the weight of Dean, his back aching from being hunched over his brother’s body for so long.

He stayed there longer anyway.

It was only once the cold set into his bones, and he found himself shaking, that he found the will to start moving.

He shifted Dean off him, laying him gently on the ground before stretching his numb legs and standing up. His pants were soaked with Dean’s congealed blood. He didn’t notice.

Bending down, he lifted up his brother’s body and carried him, cradled like a baby, to the Impala waiting outside.

He wouldn’t remember until weeks later, when it hit him in a burst of panic, that he had already betrayed one of Dean’s dying requests – to take care of the brothers they’d been there to save. When he remembered, he rushed to call the local police department, who confirmed to him that the boys had found their way safely back to town. He let out a breath of relief.

But right now, carrying his big brother out to the car, he couldn’t fathom that anyone else existed in the world.

 _It was always you and me_.

When he got to the Impala, he realized he didn’t have the keys. He had to lay Dean down on the grass and dig around in his pocket to find them. After so long being unable to tear his eyes away from his brother’s lifeless face, he now found it impossible to look at him. That wasn’t his brother.

He took the keys quickly when he found them, unlocking the door and laying Dean down in the back of the car, softly but hurriedly. He was struck by a sense of restlessness – he needed to get out of that godforsaken town, _now_. 

He sped down the highway, foot heavy on the pedal, not looking back. It was a long drive back to the bunker and his brother’s body was starting to smell, which filled him with an uncontrollable rage. How goddamn _obscene_ that humans were given such little dignity when they died. Why did God design death to be so _disgusting_? He wouldn’t put it beyond Chuck to have done it on purpose as a petty slight against humanity.

 _Chuck_. Sam was enraged now. He slammed his hand hard on the wheel, setting off the horn. How _dare_ he have manipulated their lives for so long? How dare Dean be taken away when he’d only gotten to be _truly_ free for so short a time?

_How was one man meant to survive so much pain?_

The rage left as quickly as it came. He felt guilty for having hit the car. _I’m sorry_ , _Baby_ , he muttered out loud, before letting out an uncontrollable guffaw, making himself jump in the process. He was talking to the car now. Dean would have fucking loved that.

The tears came again, though. He had to pull the car over more than once during the long drive because he couldn’t see the road through the overwhelming panic that overtook him.

When he finally got back to the bunker, there was a red car parked out front. _Eileen_.

He walked towards the door, leaving Dean safe in the Impala for now. Stepping into the bunker, he saw Eileen sitting at the map table below. Without warning, his legs gave out under him. He collapsed against the door and slid down, as Eileen ran up the stairs, Miracle at her heels, and wrapped him in an embrace, bending down to hold his head against her.

 _I’m here, I’m here. You’re not alone_ , her body said against his, as Miracle lapped at his hands.

Eileen held him like that for a while. When he felt he could move, he got up and walked straight to the toolbox to pull out an axe. Eileen joined him, grabbing the second axe – the one Dean liked to use. She didn’t ask him any questions, didn’t ask him what she could do to help. Just followed in his wake.

He felt infinitely grateful to her.

Heading out, they began to chop down trees growing around the bunker. Sam found himself inspecting each trunk carefully before cutting, making sure it would be the exact right size and build for the pyre that Dean deserved. It meant his work went slowly, but with Eileen masterfully following in his footsteps and paring down the trunks he fell in silence, the preparation was done while the sun was still high in the sky.

Sam found himself wishing there was more to do. After he’d built the best pyre he could, he found himself wandering back to the woods to cut just one more tree down, and another, not wanting the work to end. The laborious task felt right, each swing of the axe against the tree, each crack in the quiet air, each drop of sweat rolling down his forehead – they were right. The movement felt like a ritual, like a mantra, like a prayer -- each hack of the axe chanting _Dean. Dean. Dean._

But eventually, he had to admit the pyre did not need _just one more log_. It was finished. There was nothing more to do.

He went inside, calling Miracle hoarsely to follow, to find Eileen waiting with water and toast for him in the kitchen. She had no apprehension on her face, no expectation from him, no questions bursting to be asked. She was simply there.

He loved her in that moment.

Taking the water and foregoing the toast – he wasn’t sure he’d ever feel hunger again – he tried his best to smile at her.

“Thanks…for being here.”

“Always,” she signed.

For a moment, an infinitesimally small moment in time, Sam felt at peace there, in the warm kitchen with Eileen. Then it came crashing in again, and he trembled at the thought of what he had to do next.

But he’d promised Dean. He’d promised no bringing him back. He’d promised to keep fighting.

Shaking still, he took a deep breath and headed back out of the bunker, metal steps clanking under his feet in rhythm with his heartbeat, door whining like Death’s own scythe against a wall.

Taking Dean’s body out of the Impala, he carried him back down, laying him on the bed in his brother’s room. Miracle jumped up and began licking Dean’s face, a whine coming out of him when he saw he was unresponsive. Sam’s heart couldn’t break anymore, but he comforted the mutt anyway.

“He’s gone, boy.” He muttered, pressing his face into his fur. “He’s gone”.

Then began the task of preparing Dean. Usually – and he hated that there was a usually – they’d wrap up their fallen friends and family in whatever they were wearing, but that didn’t seem right this time. He knew more than most that his brother’s body was just an empty vessel, but still, he couldn’t bear letting him burn in his bloodstained clothes.

First he pulled out his hunter’s knife and cut Dean’s shirt straight off him. Then he took a washcloth from Dean’s sink and began to tenderly clean the dried blood off his back. He made himself look at the puncture wound, as much as he hated it, because he felt he needed to honour his brother, somehow, by memorizing every part of him, including the part that allowed him to die.

His brother. The mythic hero, saviour of worlds, who had been to hell and back again. Whose body had failed him. Whose skin had failed to be impenetrable, and internal organs to be invincible.

When Dean was clean, Sam dug out a fresh t-shirt from the laundry he had done only a few days prior. He chose a black shirt, and then picked out his favourite of Dean’s flannels, a black and red plaid pattern. He ran his hand through his brother’s hair, the way he’d seen Dean do so many times himself, laying it flat and neat, fixing the mess that was left from the fight, and from lying in Sam’s arms for so long.

When he was done, he lifted Dean up again, cradling him one last time. He brought him out by the pyre and began to wrap him up tight in a sheet – one that they’d bought, in fact, in a pack of three for Mary’s funeral. It occurred to him that he had never expected when he picked up the multipack that his brother’s would be the next corpse to make use of the linen.

Eileen came out as Sam was placing the cocooned body onto the pyre she’d helped build. She took his hand.

“Do you want me to stay?”

Sam squeezed her hand, looking into her sad, kind eyes.

“I think I gotta do this one alone.”

She squeezed his hand back, and gave him a soft smile.

“I’ll be inside.”

She let go and turned back into the bunker, leaving Sam and Miracle under the dim sun.

Sam felt the urge to pray. It was instinctual, almost. In so many of the worst moments of Sam’s life, he had turned to God, to angels, to faith. All those were gone now, comforting fantasies dashed like ships against unseen cliffs.

So instead, head lowered and eyes closed, he prayed to Dean.

_Dean._

_I can’t believe you’re gone. I don’t know if I’ll ever believe it. I keep hoping that you’ll just wake up, that your soul will be sent back to me, just one last time. But I know that’s not how it’s going to go this time._

_I know you. I know how even after we got rid of Chuck, you weren’t able to rest easy. I know how you were still hurting for Cas, and mom, and Jack, and everyone we lost._

_I know that you remembered every person we’ve failed with every breath you took. I know that you never filled your lungs fully, never exhaled completely, always holding the pain you couldn’t let go of tightly in your chest._

_I know you still had nightmares._

_But Dean, I saw the peace in your eyes as you left._

_You can rest now._

_I want you to know that I will fight like hell to be okay._

He took a deep breath, and raised his head up, opening his eyes to look at Dean, and the horizon beyond him.

 _The best thing to have ever happened to me was when you came and got me at Stanford. I would take all of the suffering, all the loss, all the pain again to spend another lifetime hunting with you._

_The people we saved, the evil we fought…we did right, Dean. You and me. We did right._

_I know you’re in heaven. I know you’re waiting for me._

_And Dean, I want you to know that while I wait to join you, I won’t be alone._

_No one will ever replace what you were to me. You raised me, you protected me. You saved me._

_But Eileen is here, waiting for me._

He felt the edges of his mouth twitch upwards.

_I really like her, man._

_And Donna, Garth, Jodie and the girls…we still got family here. I’m not going to waste that. You and me, we’re loved._

_I’m going to be okay. I promise._

_I’ll see you soon._

Sam lit the lighter and tossed it onto the pyre.

**Author's Note:**

> Ouch, this hurt to write. 
> 
> I plan on writing more chapters, of Sam starting his life with Eileen, learning to hunt without Dean.
> 
> Always love and appreciate any comments & kudos to keep me motivated to write more <3


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